A Little Fun in the Big Easy
by Elendil
Summary: The mutant Dark Cloak [from the story Sins of the Father] is at Mardi Gras along with Betsy Braddock, who decides to toy a bit with the guy. R/R appreciated as always, and being Mardi Gras, had to slap a rating on it, despite its tactful wording.


Chaos ruled, and insanity swirled around him. Gary was wondering why he had agreed to come to New Orleans for Mardi Gras in the first place. He needed to have a long discussion with Mr. Drake, apparently, that he did not need to spend time in the company of a few million idiots.intent on becoming drunk, obtaining beads, and succumbing to mass hysteria.   


Somehow, Rogue and Remy had managed to vanish back in the French Quarter restaurant they had dined in, and now, on Bourbon Street, Bobby was getting into the swing of things, easily finding a female companion to cavort with.   


Beside him walked, in his opinion, the only level-headed teammate left, Betsy Braddock. She grinned at him, sensing his thoughts, "My, but aren't you the avid party-goer. I could sense the black cloud over your head half a planet away even if I were not a telepath."   


Gary rolled his eyes. "I see no point to Mardi Gras at all. Can't people get wasted and roll around in bed at home? Why must it be here?" Bobby drifted back by, with a giggling girl on his arm. "Aww, c'mon, 'Cloak, you sound too much like Bishop! Lighten up!" As he disappeared again, Betsy nodded sagely. "I see you point, Gary."   


Gary laughed quietly as they stepped aside to avoid the zydeco dancers gyrating in time with the wild music. A small group of young men, teenagers possibly, caught his eye, as Betsy had obviously caught theirs. "Oh look, you have fans too. Wow, between you and Bobby, I feel left out." Betsy shrugged, rolling her eyes. "I was a model, what can I say?"   


The group of college students approached, one of them shoved roughly forward by his friends, carrying an opened bottle of whiskey, which he had obviously been seeking the bottom of. Stumbling towards Betsy, his arm shot out, sending some of its contents to splatter on Mrs. Braddock. He leered, ambling closer, but was halted immediately, his eyes bulging, as a powerful knee was delivered to the area he had been thinking with.   


As the man sunk to the ground in pain, Betsy spoke in a low tone. "Now, my friend, if you ever wish to sire children in the future, I strongly suggest you not "accidentally" spill your cheap whiskey on me again." As she and Gary continued on, he chuckled at the scene. "You found that amusing, Mr. Davis?"   


"Economics are not my strong point, Miss Braddock, but that cost seemed rather high." Betsy grinned coyly at Gary. "Oh, so you don't think the benefit outweighs the cost?" Gary's face never so much as flinched, but he obviously got her tease, and was using the whole of his efforts to keep a straight face. She paused a moment to chuckle quietly to herself, letting him walk ahead.   


A strand of beads arced through the air, ringing themselves neatly around Gary's neck. As Gary whirlied around, Betsy mock-glared at him. "Well?" Gary was utterly confused. "Well what?"   


Betsy shook her head, sighing, walking past the bewildered man. "I am disappointed, Mr. Davis, that will be the last freebie you get from me in a while." The crowd got denser, rapidly filling with more merrymakers. One pair had seemed to enjoy themselves too much, and were reveling in the party spirit a bit too much.   


The feather costumes were quickly shed by their owners, who were shortly sprawled on the pavement, consumed by their animal lusts. Having had to pause to move around them, Betsy's eyes flicked to the inebriated lovers, and then to Gary, simply arching an eyebrow to him. "Shall we?"   


Gary's usually fair-skinned face turned at first white as a sheet, and quickly changed to being red as a beet. The mortification set in when she abruptly continued, ".....head back to the Blackbird? This is getting boring." Gary nodded hurriedly, stuttering out "I-I'll go get Bobby and, uh, meet you there." Betsy grinned slyly at him, nodding "You do that.", as he turned and shakily retreated, or perhaps fled might have been the better word. 


End file.
